Divided

I’ve been coming here for the last four years. I knew what I would find.

I would find what I lost on the other side. What I cannot reach.

I don’t see a solution. I feel we may always be separated.

If only I get could get a message through.

“I’m ok. I’m here.”

“I miss you.”

I am Cone Alone.

A sign blame

I didn’t even want to be here.

And now my parents or legal guardian will find out and I’m going to be in big trouble. And then I can’t ask you-know-who (not Voldemort, duh) to the prom. And then my life will be ruined.

All because I let my friends talk me into this stunt.

We should have stopped, but we didn’t. We couldn’t.

This is a bad sign.

I should have been octagone by now.

I am soooo grounded.

I am Cone Alone.